I slept fitfully that night, battling unsettling dreams. When I woke it was only just past dawn, but I knew there would be no more sleep. With a sigh I got up and padded nakedly down to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. I took it back to bed and climbed in. there was promise of another hot day in prospect but at this early hour there was a chill in the air. While sipping coffee I mulled over what had happened yesterday.
I admit I was troubled and conflicted. I have never been violent before, most especially not to a woman. I had been raised to regard that as the ultimate wrong. And yet somehow what had happened didn't really fit into that category. What we had inflicted on Sylvia seemed oddly justified and justifiable. Even thinking of it in terms of 'we' had become a habit. Just thinking back to how I felt with that crop in my hand made my dick stir beneath the sheets.
I tried to ignore it and to think of other things. Was that one time the be all and end all to things. Deep down I hoped not. Eliza had hinted strongly that it would not, that she had further need of my services. She obviously had skills whereas I had a different function. My guess was that she had put Sylvia to good use after they had left me alone last night. However, there are certain obvious attributes that a man can bring to proceedings that she could not. And she had said that Sylvia needed further testing, so my hopes were high.
I finished my pot of coffee and decided it was time to get up. My bladder was bursting, and I needed a shower. When I came back to the bedroom, I looked at the bedraggled pair of slacks I had thrown onto the floor last night. Dry-cleaners first thing tomorrow I thought, hoping they would not enquire too much about the stains. There were dregs of coffee in my cup, so I tipped them over the front of the slacks to mask any other guilty stains.
Knowing it was going to be hot I found my best pair of shorts and another clean t-shirt. I felt those and a pair of sandals would do for now. I was surprised how hungry I was until I remembered how energy sapping yesterday had been and I'd only had a salad for dinner, delicious though it had been. Its not often I need a full English breakfast but that morning I went for it. I finally pushed my empty plate away and sat back fully satisfied. I pottered around for a while occupying myself with trivial tasks and then went and sat on the patio. Would I get a visit? Would the promising start from yesterday continue into today? I forced myself to be patient.
It was as hot as they promised it would be and I basked like a reptile, pulling in the warmth. The only sounds were the birds in the woods behind the house and the sound of a neighbour from about four doors down mowing their lawn. Shortly before noon I heard the distant peel of bells from the local church. Although I no longer attend, indeed I am no longer even a believer, it was a sound that had been around me all my life and one which I loved. I'm told by the locals that they are a good team, but I had no way to judge, I simply sat back and enjoyed it.
Just after the last bell had rung and silence had fallen again, I thought I heard raised voices from Eliza's house. I pricked up my ears. I stood up and walked over to the fence. It was a little too tall to peer over, so I listened carefully. Perhaps I had been mistaken as all I got was silence. I shrugged and walked back to my chair.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I heard was Eliza's unmistakable voice.
"Oh dear, did we tire you out yesterday?"
I jerked awake and blinked my eyes. The sun had moved around and was now shining directly in my eyes. She was already lowering herself into the second chair and was happily pouring herself a glass of wine as my vision slowly cleared.
"Sorry," I said, "I must have nodded off."
"And why not? On a Sunday in your own garden? And after such a strenuous day, as well." Her voice was gently mocking but her smile was warm and friendly.
"Good morning," I responded rather too formally as I raised my glass to her, "or is it afternoon?"
"Only just the afternoon," she assured me, "and how are you today?"
"I'm feeling good. Much better after a hearty breakfast."
"I apologise for serving such a mean dinner. I hadn't expected to cater for an extra guest."
"It was delicious, nonetheless. You have found a little star in Jane."
"Thank you, I will pass that on to her .... A pity young Sylvia is not following in her footsteps."
"Oh dear, surely she is not being trouble again? She seemed so ... err ... docile last night."
"I warned you not to let her fool you."
"I must admit I did think I heard raised voices a little earlier."
"I wondered if sound might travel this far. This is why I felt the need to explain things at an early stage. I didn't want you to get the wrong idea."
"It stopped almost as soon as it began, so don't worry. And I'm sure it went no further than my garden."
"That's a relief. But you are right, she is back to her old ways again. It is something we," she emphasised the word, "need to deal with before her training can continue. I assume you wish to continue helping me. You did such a splendid job yesterday. Both in the cellar and in the lounge later." Her eyes twinkled and her grin was almost cheeky.
"It was a strange day to say the least, but I can't deny that I enjoyed it. But what has she been up to now?"
"Last evening, after we had left you, I took her upstairs and made her serve me. Watching her servicing you had made me extremely ... horny. Sorry for the coarseness of my language. It is a new skill she is learning and needs a lot more practice but for the moment she serves a purpose. When I was happy I think she expected to sleep with me in my bed but she's not to that standard quite yet, so I made her sleep on the bare wooden floor with only a blanket for company. I had also cuffed her hands behind her to stop her playing with herself. As you can understand she was not best pleased when I woke her to begin her morning routine."
"I know I should feel sorry for her, but I can also see the necessity for keeping her in check. You said, 'morning routine'. What does that entail?"
"I have set out an exercise regime for her. When she arrived, she was soft even a little overweight. She has already started to improve although it is early days. She has yet to realise the benefits. Eventually, I am sure, she will come to enjoy it."
"And this morning she rebelled again?"
"I'm surprised you didn't hear more shouting and yelling. She has one of the crudest mouths on her that I have ever heard. It also seems to annoy her when I respond in a soft voice," and she giggled. This was obviously one of the weapons in her psychological armoury, designed to throw her opponent off balance. "Obviously, we need to deal with that before her training can resume."
"Where is she now," I asked, "back in the cellar?"
"I was tempted but no. I have her strapped to the four corners of the bed in one of my spare rooms. I always keep it ready in case of little emergencies like this. She was calm when I left her. Would you like to come and visit her? I think both of us together should send out a clear signal."
It was only as she stood up that I really got a good look at what she was wearing. She had gone from the expensive sophistication of our first meeting, through the bathrobe that hid her true outfit to today's offering. She seemed to feel no need to hide her true self from me. She wore the same thigh high boots as before but now her top was covered in a stretchy black leotard. It was cut high in the hips and plunged between her legs, narrowing almost dangerously as it did so. The black vee shape was echoed by the pale vee of her neckline as it drove daringly down her front, almost to her navel and barely containing her small boobs. It was so simple but effective. She saw me ogling her and smiled.
"You like? I know I say I do it to please the clients but really ... I enjoy it as well. I think this suits me quite well, don't you?"
I had got over my nervousness in front of her so when she paraded herself and displayed herself to me, I managed to reply, "You look absolutely stunning. I really like your outfits, those that I've been allowed to see so far. But am I ok in this or should I get changed?"
"You are fine as you are, although we may look at some clothing stores online soon and pick something out for you. As for me, yes I have many more and hopefully you will get to see them eventually."
With that promise hanging over me she turned her back and walked towards the gate. I followed admiring the swing of her hips and the pert contours of her backside as she went. We went into the familiar kitchen and then she led me up the grand staircase. It exuded fine early Victorian craftsmanship. Along a short corridor she stopped outside a door and pressed her ear to it. Satisfied that all was quiet she opened the door and marched in. I heard a squeal of surprise just before I appeared behind her.
Eliza's guest, trainee, victim, call her what you will, was lying as described on a bare mattress placed on a large old mahogany bed frame. Her ankles and wrists were enclosed by wide black straps and these in turn were clipped to the four bed posts. As we came in, she struggled violently but in vain. The straps held her too firmly. She also tried to shout at us, but her mouth had been forced wide and was filled with a large red ball gag. All we got was garbled grunts and splutters.
"Oh dear, it seems she has not calmed down as I had hoped," commented Eliza, "perhaps she needs a reminder."
By now I had taken a place at the foot of the bed. I gazed down at Sylvia. Gone was the quiet submissive girl from yesterday and the old one that I had been warned about had returned. Despite her predicament, her cunt was leaking quite profusely. A new damp stain had appeared on the mattress and was slowly spreading to mix with a variety of older stains. The mattress had seen a lot of use in its time.
Eliza had gone over to a chest of drawers and picked something out of one of the drawers. She came back swishing it through the air. It was not the crop as I had expected but some sort of whip. I saw Sylvia's eyes widen with dread at the sound and sight of it. Eliza handed it to me.
"Get a feel for it," she said, "this is usually known as a flogger and there are many varieties. This is a twenty-four-tail flogger. Its sting is very different to that of the crop but no less focussing for the mind. I usually use it on more delicate parts of the body. The crop is fine for the bottom and it does leave lovely marks. This tends to give a more overall redness which is also good to look at. If you allow me ... I will demonstrate it for you."
She held out her hand and I passed it back to her. She swished it through the air a few more times making Sylvia flinch with anticipation each time.
"I never did approve of the metric system, I always preferred our old fashion system. So, I think a nice round dozen on her tits and six on her cunt. That seems about right and fair to me."
I was still coming to terms with Eliza's occasional use of what I considered to be rather crude terms, but I could see why she did it. Sylvia's face was a picture, a study of disbelief and terror. There was nothing she could do to stop it and she squeezed her eyes tight shut. The first blow took even me by surprise as did the muffled yelp. I watched more carefully as the second blow fell. Sylvia's tits shook and shimmied like a fine dessert and the muffled cry was fainter this time. The flogger was long enough to strike both tits at once and even after the second they were beginning to turn a pretty pink. Her nipples stood out hard above them, showing their aroused state. Two more blows fell in rapid succession, but no sound came from the girl on the bed. The pink turned darker each time. When she got to six Eliza stepped back, relaxed, and admired her handiwork. She seemed pleased with the result. Then came the moment that I had been both dreading and looking forward to. She reversed the handle and passed the cruel looking instrument to me.
"It might be an idea to stand on the other side," she suggested, "to even out the effect. Be firm and try to aim for the nipples. It takes a bit of practice but I'm sure you'll be fine."
It felt heavy in my hand compared to the light crop from yesterday and I made a few air strokes to get the feel of it. It felt good and well-balanced in my hand. I walked round to the side of the bed. Sylvia's eyes had opened and followed me, a pleading look on her face. It was too late, she should have thought of this before her display of temper. She had brought it upon herself. I felt justified in what I was about to do.
My first blow was tentative and most of the tails struck the underside of her boob. The second was better, harder, and more accurate. I was please with the third and fourth. I paused before the final two looking down at the results. Her nipples pushed firmly upwards and the pink colour had darkened almost to red. Sylvia's eyes were shut tight and there was a frown of pain on her face. She flinched as the fifth one struck her and again after the sixth. Then her faced slowly relaxed. She had been counting and may have thought it was over.
Eliza reached out her hand and I passed the flogger back to her.
"Six more to go," she announced, and Sylvia's eyes opened with alarm. "You did well for your first time," she said turning her attention to me, "I want you to strike just as hard this time as well. Again, I will demonstrate with the first three."
Without hesitation she lifted her arm and brought the flogger down, just as forcefully as before, between the girl's legs. Stretched as they were between the bed post she had no chance of closing them. This brought a new sound from behind the gag, a mixture of a scream and a sob. With no let up two more blows fell. The screaming subsided and the sobbing took over. The flogger was handed to me.
I was more nervous this time but steeled myself. I did not want to damage the girl, after all I had a half-promise of the used of her later, but I was eager to see the effect I could have. I now knew how to aim it properly and my first strike was accurate but maybe not as hard as it should have been. I made up for it with the last two. Sylvia was now openly weeping, and tears ran down either side of her face and soaked into the pillow. I looked at the effect I had had on her pussy and was astonished to find she was leaking profusely. Eliza noticed that as well and reached down and ran a finger between her lips. Then she lifted her finger to her mouth and tasted it.
"Despite her screaming and complaining I think we have excited her. She's more than a little wet down there. Its just as well it's an old mattress."
She reached behind Sylvia's head and managed to undo the leather strap that held the gag in place. Sylvia was forced to stretch her jaw even wider to let the ball come free and it appeared, dripping with her spit which Eliza allowed to dribble over her face. Sylvia worked her jaw trying to get rid of the stiffness and a look of relief came over her face. I could see she was dying to have her hands unclipped so she could comfort herself and bring a tender touch to her tits and cunt. But Eliza made her wait.
"So," she said, folding her arms, "what will you say next time you are made to sleep on the floor?"
Sylvia looked puzzled, unsure what to say, so Eliza continued. "I would think a thank you for being kind enough to allow you to sleep and have the comfort of a blanket. That only seems fair to me. Doesn't it to you, Duncan?"
"I think a thank you is the least you deserve," I replied.
"And a thank you for the lesson she has been taught."
Realisation slowly dawned on Sylvia what was expected of her. I saw no fight in her as she looked first at Eliza and then at me.
"Thank you, Miss, and thank you Sir and thank you for my lesson. I'll really try and be good in future."
She really sounded sincere this time although how long her vow of obedience would last remained to be seen.
"We'll leave you to think about things for a while. We'll be back later to continue your training."
With that Eliza put the flogger back in the drawer and with a look at me walked out of the room. I followed leaving the naked girl still tied, spread-eagled on the dirty mattress.